


Not Myself

by crismes



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Real Madrid CF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:43:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crismes/pseuds/crismes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cristiano is struggling with everything - his form on the pitch, turning thirty, and most of all, his feelings for James.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Written during the period between James getting injured and Real Madrid's recent dramas. I needed something a bit fluffy and cute to cheer myself up.

Cristiano couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that he realised he was in love with James. It was more a series of events that linked together, their effects impossible to reverse, and somehow now the revelation was hitting him like a freight train.   
  
It was his lack of presence that seemed to have the biggest impact on Cristiano. He stared vacantly around the training ground, contemplating how empty it looked without his playmate. There was a big pit of nothingness in his chest when James wasn’t around, and that turned to an ache whenever he thought about the younger man being injured.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” Marcelo playfully tapped him on the back of the head. “It’s like you’re in another world lately.”

“I’m sorry,” Cristiano frowned, pursing his lips together, dragging his feet as they made their way back to the changing rooms. His friend had hit a sore spot. Cristiano hadn’t been acting like himself lately. He just wasn’t on his usual form, on or off the pitch. It was starting to drive him crazy.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that,” Marcelo explained, his voice full of concern.

“I know you didn’t,” Cristiano shrugged dramatically. “It’s just been a tough couple of weeks.”

“Tough professionally? Or do you mean personally?” Marcelo said knowingly.

“It’s complicated,” Cristiano sighed.

“So it is personal,” Marcelo grinned.

“Oh shut up,” Cristiano teased, a little more mellowness in the way that he spoke. Trust Marcelo to know exactly what was going on. He just knew that the Brazilian was going to do everything within his power to extract every single detail that he could from him.

“Cris wait…” Marcelo pulled him aside from the rest of the group and spoke in a hushed voice. “It’s James, isn’t it? It’s tearing you apart not being with him every day.”

Cristiano let out a long, exaggerated gust of breath. He wanted to stare into space, for Marcelo not to see the emotion in his eyes.

“I’m just tired,” he insisted. That at least was the truth. It wasn’t the aching of his legs or the tweaks from his knee that bothered him. He was tired of always having to be the strong one, tired of always having his decisions scrutinised. Tired too perhaps, of feeling as though he couldn’t have James, because maybe James was too good for him, because maybe James would be better off without him.

“We’re all tired,” Marcelo told him, rolling his eyes. “But I’m your friend, I’m James’s friend too. I’m not stupid, I know when something is wrong. I hate seeing you with your spirits so low.”

“Thanks,” Cristiano patted Marcelo on the shoulder. “I appreciate that, but there’s no easy way out of the situation I’m in right now.”

“Well that’s not true, of course there is. Talk to him.”

“No.”

“Tell him how you feel.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?” Marcelo was exasperated, arms up in the air.

“Because I’ll hurt him, and then I’ll lose him forever, okay?” Cristiano’s voice was raw with sadness and fear. “I’ll fuck it up and I’ll break his heart. I’ll cheat on him, I always end up cheating. It’s what I do, remember?”

“Oh Cris,” Marcelo whispered. “Is that what’s been getting to you all of this time? Just tell me this – why do you have such a problem when it comes to letting yourself be happy?”

“It’s not my happiness that I’m worried about –“

“Well it’s not that hard to say no and to stay faithful, even for a footballer. Not if you really love someone,” Marcelo said softly. “Do you truly think so little of him? Do you think he’s that naïve? Because I love James too, he’s my brother, and I feel like he deserves the right to be given a choice here too.”   
  
\---  
  
That was how Cristiano found himself taking the road to James’s house instead of going back home. His brown bleary eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on the road ahead of him, rain was pelting down onto his windscreen as he drove on.

Ever since he had become a household name at Manchester United his personal world had been shrouded by insecurity. He was more rich and successful than he could have ever imagined, yet loneliness smouldered in him. So much of his time had been spent trying to make other people happy, be it Irina, or his mother. He’d become so absorbed by fame that he’d forgotten how to make himself happy anymore. He’d been living a lie. That was, until he’d met James.

It was the first time he’d let himself genuinely feel something in a long time. He thought about how it felt every time he got a hug from James when he scored a goal, and of how they teased each other endlessly at training. They would talk and text for hours, sometimes about football, sometimes about nothing at all, as though they were doing it just for the sake of talking to each other. In his mind there was more to it than James wanting to imitate him or learn from him. The two of them had a special bond. Or was he reading too much into it, was it all in his head?

As his car came to a stop in James’s driveway, Cristiano took another deep breath. It was too late to back out now. James would already know that he was there.  
  
\---  
  
“Cris?” James’s eyes sparkled like a child’s when he looked at Cristiano.

That smile didn’t just light up the room, it made Cristiano’s whole world stop. Every time he saw it he fell in love with James all over again. His breath hitched in the back of his throat as he tried to muster up a reply.

“I hope you don’t mind a visitor,” he said quietly.

“I never mind when it’s you,” James grinned, then paused to gather his thoughts. “But you look tired. Are you alright?”

“You’re the injured one, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he regretted it when he’d said it, every time he thought about the injury it was as though he felt a physical pain himself.

Seconds later he followed a hobbling James into the house. Drinks were poured and the pair were seated on James’s favourite couch. When Cristiano looked around the room he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Someone has a lot of PlayStation games,” he joked.

“Someone’s had too much time on their hands lately,” James pointed out.

“Like you need an excuse to game,” Cristiano laughed.

“Guilty as charged,” James put his hands up.

Cristiano’s heart was beating rapidly in his chest. He’d tried to psyche himself up for this moment for so long, but telling James how he felt and making himself so vulnerable in the process was a truly terrifying prospect. James began to fidget, his eyes darting from Cristiano to his drink, then he just stared down at his hands and folded them.

They both chose the same moment to try and speak, laughing as they did so.

“You first,” Cristiano said.

“No, you please,” James insisted.

“I just... I’ve missed you, I guess. With your injury it’s just not been the same, we’ve not been around each other as much,” he said shakily.

“We haven’t, and I’ve missed you too,” James looked embarrassed.

It was impossible to hide the fact that he was starting to blush. He always got like this when he was around Cristiano, he always felt that he must look so childish. Though now he was confused too, unsure of exactly what the other man was trying to tell him. The fact that Cristiano cared enough to admit that he had missed him floored him. The days had felt longer than ever since James had been injured and he hadn’t realised how much he’d looked forward to being with Cristiano every day at training. He hadn’t acknowledged that he got butterflies in his stomach every time he was on his way to see his teammate. James bowed his head and swallowed hard. He was utterly convinced that he was misinterpreting Cristiano’s intentions and living in a fantasy world.

“No James. I mean that I really missed you. It’s been horrible without you,” Now Cristiano had turned to face him, he took James’s hand into his own and laced their fingers together. The skin on skin contact felt like electricity to both of them.

James was merely dumbfounded, lips slightly apart as he turned to return Cristiano’s intense stare.

“I’ve been so unhappy lately, I can’t concentrate on anything because of this… because of you.”  
  
“Cris…” James was shaking as he edged closer to the other man. “You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you? I’d do anything to make things right for you. I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy,” he said in a tone barely above a whisper, tears forming in his eyes. “You’re the only thing that makes sense in my fucked up life right now.”

They were so close that James could feel Cristiano’s breath on his face. He was inhaling the familiar scent of the cologne Cristiano always used when he showered after training.

“I love you James,” he said simply, his heart beating as he realised that he’d just made the revelation out loud.

“I love you too, more than anything,” James replied, his eyes going glassy. He felt overwhelmed, his heart full.

“But I’m so scared of hurting you and of losing you. I can be… difficult to love,” the words fell painfully from Cristiano’s lips. He felt ashamed, but he had to admit that he was acknowledging the truth.

“Don’t be stupid, you won’t lose me,” James said reassuringly, his hand drifting onto the other man’s. “You might be many things, but you’re a better person than you think you are.”

Cristiano looked at James again and allowed himself to take him in properly. He gazed at the freckles on his nose and the way his cheeks were flushed with colour. Everyone thought he was baby faced and innocent, yet Cristiano was sure he could detect a hint of mischievousness behind those eyes. Oh god, how he wanted to explore that side of who James was.

As James’s lips began to turn into a smile, Cristiano reached over and touched them with the tip of his thumb. They were soft, full and just begging to be kissed. The Colombian leaned forward eagerly so that their noses touched, he felt as though his heart had never pounded so quickly before.

Cristiano softly pressed his lips towards James’s, teasing gently as he parted them with his tongue. He heard the most delicate, melodic moan fall from James’s mouth and it sent electricity pulsing through him. He took the time to appreciate the warmth of the kiss before deepening it, pulling James onto his lap.

“Stay,” James uttered breathlessly, reaching to dishevel Cristiano’s perfect hair with his fingertips.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he responded, still reeling from the kiss. In that moment he realised that it was a promise. He wasn’t.


End file.
